


not like im gonna crack my soul over this or something

by DarkColdSummer



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Papyrus (Undertale), Angst, Big Brother Sans (Undertale), Depressed Sans (Undertale), Gen, Good W. D. Gaster, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intervention, Job Dissatisfaction I Guess, New Job, POV Sans (Undertale), POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Pre-Accident W. D. Gaster, Pre-Undertale, Protective Papyrus (Undertale), References to Depression, Resigning from your job, Scientist Sans (Undertale), Scientist W. D. Gaster, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, W. D. Gaster is not related to Skelebros, Worried Papyrus (Undertale), Young Papyrus (Undertale), Younger Brother Papyrus (Undertale), yo i cant believe i forgot the angst tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkColdSummer/pseuds/DarkColdSummer
Summary: the people around you are a bit more concerned about your wellbeing than you like.“i haven’t been avoiding you,” you say.you’ve only had more important things to do at the most inopportune times, unfortunately.“CUT THE CRAP,” gaster says. “LET US WORRY OVER YOU IN PEACE.”





	1. im not running away

**Author's Note:**

> gaster follower 1 - naveen (he/him)  
gaster follower 2 - karma (he/him)  
gaster follower 3 - flo (they/them)  
goner kid - angie (she/her)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sans does a self-depreciation.
> 
> the science team does not appreciate that.

you’re useless and stupid. your skull smacks roughly against the wall, creating a loud “CLANG!” that echoes and reverberates throughout the CORE.

you only seem to mess things up.

“**_THAT’S NOT TRUE_**,” gaster says. (oops. did you say some of that out loud? you must have.) “**_I GAVE YOU A ROLE ON MY TEAM. I DON’T DO THAT TO JUST ANYONE. YOU’RE PRETTY SMART_**.”

“yeah,” you mutter to yourself, knocking your skull against the metal wall once again. “smart enough to know that i’m an idiot.”

“Th-that’s no-ot tru-ue…?” alphys shoots back, her stuttering tone more a question than a statement.

“mhm,” you respond noncommittally (she wasn’t supposed to hear that), turning back to that stupid stupid _stupid_ piece of work you’ve been working on. the calculations just refuse to work out. (you’re sure that anyone else in the team would have been able to solve it by now. the thought hurts.)

“They’re right, junior,” karma says.

you frown at the nickname. you may be the most recent addition to the team, but alphys and angie are still younger than you. (well, doesn’t that speak volumes about your capabilities?)

“Don’t look at me like that’s peculiar,” he continues, grinning in amusement at the rhyme, looking almost _too_ pleased with himself.

you almost groan. (inwardly, you wonder if this is how your brother feels when you make puns. as fast as it comes, you push the thought away roughly, like you always do. running away from your problems doesn’t do much good in the long run, honestly, but it’s all you know to do.)

-

the day is at work is long, almost seeming longer than usually, but eventually, you head home.

papyrus is already back home. (you can’t even do anything for him other than reading one stupid bedtime story. the kid deserves way better from you.) he’s strangely excited, even for him.

“LOOK!” papyrus says, energetic, pointing at the piece of paper he’s holding. “IT’S YOU!”

the drawing is good. it actually looks like you, from the (_your_ stupid looking) constant grin, the (not-emptiness of your) evidently lit eye sockets, to your (dirty, worn, old, stained, pathetic _just like you_) blue jacket. strangely, it looks better than you. it looks good for a twelve-year-old. it looks good in general.

“looks good, buddy,” you tell him, your smile almost a genuine one. “even better than the real thing.”

you must have said something wrong because papyrus’s smile immediately drops. “what’s wrong paps?”

he gives you this look, and you shrink inwards slightly, wincing under the unseen pressure. a few seconds later, the critical look ends and papyrus’s smile comes back up, though definitely not genuine. “NOTHING’S WRONG!”

you look at him, but see the stubborn glint in his eye, and know he won’t say a word about it. you drop it, asking something else instead. “what do you want for dinner?”

“SPAGHETTI!”

-

alphys groans something about caffeine as she stumbles into the break room that morning. you use your blue magic to grab a bottle of soda and a cup of coffee and shove both onto the table in front of where she collapsed.

“Tha-anks Sans,” she says, drinking back the coffee like she’s taking a shot of alcohol. the moment she’s done with that, she drinks half the bottle of soda.

you make a noise of acknowledgement and continue reading your book.

“How can you stand so much caffeine?” angie asks, snout scrunched up.

“I- I’ve got a caffe-eine addiction?” alphys answers.

“Ew,” angie says decisively. “I don’t get why you would.”

“there are worse things to be addicted to,” you mutter.

angie and alphys look at you like you said something weird.

-

“That does not look good for you…” grillby mutters.

“i’m not good for me,” you shoot back, before tipping your head back to drink up the remainder of the ketchup. he shoots you a look in return (what’s with people giving you this sort of look nowadays?) and you shrug. “hey, at least i’m not drowning myself in alcohol again.”

grillby visibly hesitates, and you stiffen, but eventually, he just sighs and turns back to cleaning his glass.

in turn, you sigh too, relaxing a little, and go back to drinking ketchup.

you catch grillby looking at you funny a couple of times, but it can’t have been important if he didn’t confront you about it, right?

-

work the next day is tiring. angie, in all her youth (she’s 8 years younger than you - how?) and care and concern (?), decided to trail you. every time you make an off-hand joke (comment), she stops and just stares at you. she means well, but it’s gotten on your nerves. your work has gotten sloppier (pathetic), and you make a crucial mistake, adding a bit too much determination to the solution.

it blows up in your face. literally.

you take a step back, and the explosion just barely misses you. you can feel the shockwaves hitting hard. interesting outcome, even if dangerous.

“pity i moved,” you mutter to yourself, almost laughing.

angie shoots you a sharp look. “What if you hadn’t moved?”

you wince internally - she wasn’t supposed to hear that - and shrug externally.

“You could’ve been melted, fused, dusted, erased from existence!”

“that’s a lot of possibilities - and that’s what experimenting is for, isn’t it? never know until you try.”

angie shoots you a long searching and slightly scandalised look. you stare back at her evenly, doing your best not to let your mask slip more than it already has.

she furrows her eyebrows, but turns away eventually. “C’mon, we need to clean up.”

-

papyrus’s friend undyne is at your home when you go back. you only realise it when you enter the house.

within a few seconds, an angry fish is in your face, a magical spear pointed at you. “YOU WANNA DIE, PUNK?”

the flickering of the dangerous magic on your (lack of) skin…

“sure,” you reply immediately, the same time papyrus yells back from his room. “THAT’S MY BROTHER, PLEASE DON’T KILL HIM.”

undyne falters, but you don’t know at whose words until her ears droop and the magic flickers away, her eyes glued to you. “Wait what?”

you’re glad she says it softly. you really don’t want papyrus to worry more than he already does. “don’t worry about that,” you say. “it was a joke. i make jokes a lot. ask literally anyone who knows me.”

she looks at you funny, but she drops it and you’re glad for it.

you don’t know what you would’ve done if she had pushed.

-

back at work, angie attempts to trail you again. flo manages to catch her this time, and sends her away. you look at them thankfully.

“Don’t thank me yet,” they tell you. “Doctor kindly requested you to lend your help in a private project.”

“me?” you ask.

“Yes you,” they say, deadpan tone and all.

“all i do is ruin stuff,” you say. “ask angie. i blew up a dt experiment yesterday.”

“Keep talking like that and that’s all you’ll ever do. Come. We have work to be done.”

-

when you go back to work the next day, something doesn’t feel quite right.

alphys looks nervous, which should be normal, only she looks more nervous than normal. (how is that possible?)

“stop looking at me like that,” you tell her. you’re not worth her time.

you don’t think you say that aloud. the look on alphys’s face says otherwise.

“Nope,” naveen says, pushing you out of the room and into another. “We need to have a talk about that.”

you push his hand away and cross your arms. “what about.” your tone is flat - it’s not a question.

his eyebrows furrow. “Are you… okay, Sans?”

you tense up. “‘course i am. why wouldn’t i be?”

“Sans-“

“look, ‘veen,” you say, and watch how his face scrunches up at the nickname. “i’m fine.” you emphasise the last word. “there’s nothing to worry about.” your voice is unsteady. you make it steady. “this is how i’ve always been.”

you don’t wait for a response as you ‘port out.

-

it seems the rest of the team is decidedly “not pleased” with you avoiding all attempts to address what they deem an issue.

they stage an intervention. you’re just glad papyrus isn’t involved in this.

“Sans,” flo says. “We are worried about you.”

that’s touching a little too close to the lines you’ve drawn and the walls you’ve built and possibly addressing a bit too much of the elephant in the room-

“what’s this about?” you ask, blandly, your smile a little too tight, eye lights watching the others.

“I don’t know!” naveen snaps. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been avoiding us?”

“i haven’t been avoiding you,” you say.

you’ve only had more important things to do at the most inopportune times, unfortunately.

“**_CUT THE CRAP_**,” gaster says. “**_LET US WORRY OVER YOU IN PEACE_**.”

“that’s not how it works,” you shoot.

“We’re worried about some of the things you say,” karma says. you await the next line of the rhyming couplet. it doesn’t come.

“like?”

alphys meets your gaze surprisingly steadily. her voice doesn’t shake as she speaks, for once. “You called yourself useless and stupid. That you only seem to mess things up.”

when everyone turns to look at her, her confidence falters immediately. “A-at least that’s what I thi-ink you said?”

gaster nods at that.

everyone starts raising other stuff you said.

“those were jokes,” you say, reminiscent of the time you told pap’s friend something similar. “i tell jokes, that’s my thing.”

“How about this?” angie says, surprisingly quiet previously. she looks at you dead in the eye light. “There are worse things to be addicted to.”

you grab your lower arm on instinct, aching to teleport away from this, but you’re pretty sure that at this proximity, someone would be brought with you if you did.

“’s nunna ya business,” you say, the snowdin accent creeping into your tone.

you’re panicking why are you panicking you need to calm down.

“Sans-“ someone says, reaching out to you.

you decide that the risk is pointless. one person is better than six.

you ‘port.

there’s a groan of two someones as they land next to you. shit.

you take a couple steps back before they can regain themselves, before they can look up, and then you ‘port away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello this was hell and writing is not cooperating (neither is drawing tbh) and well pop by my [tumblr](https://darkcoldsummer.tumblr.com/) maybe? drop me a drabble request or something? maybe that'll get my writing gears rotating normally. (the tumblr also contains some bs drawings of mine)


	2. i just have many unfortunately timed commitments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sans does a panic. 
> 
> papyrus is supportive.
> 
> the science team does a big no-no.

you end up back home, stumbling out of your shortcut and landing face first. you don’t get up, curling into a ball. there’s a bunch of rattling going on somewhere and you somewhat briefly consider the idea of telling whoever it is to shut up. you find you don’t have the energy to get up to do that, and you don’t seem to be able to speak.

your soul hurts. you have no idea why but it hurts and you don’t think (“SANS?“) you can find out. your breathing shorts out and you think you’re having a (“SANS…“) soul attack. you don’t want to have a soul attack (“SANS?“) you don’t want to pass out. you’re at home and if you pass out you think no (“SANS.“) you know paps would be worried. if you dust you might traumatise him for life. your soul (“SANS!“) thuds heavily in your chest. you don’t want to die in front of your brother. why can’t you control this?!

“SANS!”

papyrus. stars, papyrus. what must you look like to him? if you feel like you’re dying how must you look like to him??

an image of your body slowly going to dust in front of him makes you tense up. you don’t want to die like this.

you don’t want to die like this, shaking (shaking? stars that rattling must be coming from you. your neighbours are going to complain what are you even doing??) and pathetic in front of your brother and possibly his friend (un something, undying? that doesn’t sound quite right) and dusting.

the feeling of a familiar fabric tickles your skull. it’s a sudden and uncalled for memory but it’s familiar and comfortable. (you’d spent the large part of the week learning from the shopkeeper and the next week practising and refining your technique. you’d knitted the scarf for your brother from hand and he’d loved it.) you focus on the feeling of the fabric, the comfort it gives is almost instantaneous. you latch on to it.

your vision finally focuses (you hadn’t noticed it wasn’t focused) and you look up. your brother is in front of you, orange-glowing tear tracks on his face. your phalanges are gripping on to the tail end of his scarf. you let go and push yourself up. your arms are strangely weak.

papyrus latches onto you, tackling you in the rib cage. the pain in your soul has faded away. you don’t know why and you don’t want to know why, so you don’t think about that as you hug him too, your bones still rattling together. papyrus is rattling too.

“SANS…”

papyrus’s voice sounds absolutely miserable and you can’t help but hate yourself for making him sound this way.

“‘m fine,” you croak out, your voice finally cooperating, even if just a little bit.

“YOU’RE NOT FINE,” he says into your rib cage. “STOP LYING.”

“okay,” you say, and don’t follow up, resting your skull on top of his in what you hope is a comforting gesture.

-

it takes a while, but he finally pulls away. you can’t fault him for that. you only have yourself to blame for making him worry that much.

his eye lights roam your figure, not much, but enough to catch sight of the deep gorges you must have dug into yourself during your- whatever that was.

“BROTHER, YOU’RE INJURED!” he says.

“yup,” you reply.

“SO LET ME HEAL IT!”

and so you do. you bend down and let his relatively smaller hands grasp your skull on both sides, pouring green magic into the scratches.

you don’t know if they fade away but you think they do, because papyrus pulls away again and nods his skull resolutely, satisfied by his handiwork.

you hate how he learnt this skill specifically to deal with you, how his first bits of magic weren’t bone bullets or any other kind of bullets or blue magic or cyan magic but green magic specifically in the branch of healing.

stars, you’re pathetic.

-

it’s surprisingly early for you to be back home, but you don’t think you can go to the lab after this. not after-

you head out with papyrus to build snowmen. or rather, snowskeletons.

papyrus’s snowman is impressive. heck it could pass in a snow sculpting competition and get first place. (you make a mental note to sign him up for one. damn, the kid is good at his arts.)

you’re honestly too (drained) tired to do much, so you roll a flimsy attempt at a ball, leave it, and write your name on it in red. not marker not dt not ketchup. you use red dye. hopefully that’ll take care of the environment. you don’t want to ruin more things than you already have.

papyrus looks concerned when you voice your thoughts as they come.

you’re too tired to care.

-

as much as you want to avoid having to go to work, it’s still your job. you still need your job to pay for bills and support paps. so you go back.

you spend most of the time in your private work area. you’re not sure if anyone else but the secretary for the day knows you’re at work today. you don’t think that bothers you very much.

you work.

you don’t know how long you work for, but it never seems like you make any progress in your work. your calculations are still as undone as they were a week ago. at some point, you’d removed your lab coat and pulled up the sleeves to your jacket, the stifling heat of the hotland seeping through the walls of the basement lab you were in. so much for temperature going right through you.

it seems you forgot to turn on the aircon in your lab again, so you turn it on. the sudden blast of cool air in your face brings pure relief to your being.

“Sans?”

you flinch at the sound of naveen’s voice, the pencil in your hand jerking and scribbling over your previously done calculations. wincing, you grab a new sheet of paper and copy down what you already had from the previous to the new sheet. “yeah?”

your voice is tense and your body is stiff and even you know that. you don’t doubt naveen can see the tension in you too.

“Can we talk?”

“we’re talking right now,” you say, tone maybe slightly unnecessarily harsh, still working on rewriting your calculations.

“Sans-“

“just get to the point.”

“We’re just-“

“concerned. yeah. you mentioned.”

he doesn’t reply. it should make you feel better, but it doesn’t.

he leaves. it should make you feel better, but it doesn’t.

a few minutes later, someone else walks in.

“**_SANS_**.”

you spin your swirly chair around, shit-eating grin on your face. “yes doc?”

“**_STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM US_**,” gaster says. “**_WE JUST WANT TO HELP_**.”

“y’know what doc?” you say, pushing yourself up so you can “intimidate” him with your glorious 4’11” to his 6’8”. “you can help me by not talking about this.”

“**_SANS_**,” he says, eye lights on a spot next to your skull. “**_WHAT IS THAT_**?”

you freeze. at one point of your mini rant, you’d thrown your arms in the air. you had forgotten that your sleeves were rolled up. (you’d forgotten that the red would have still been visible.)

“what’s what?” you say, carefully bringing down your arms in what you hope is a natural manner, shaking your arms to bring the sleeves down.

“**_THAT_**,” he says, taking two strides forward and grabbing your right arm.

you don’t let him go any further, using blue magic to bring the both of you to opposite sides of the room.

“don’t come any closer,” you say.

“**_SANS_**-” he says, taking a step towards you despite the blue.

“don’t!” you snap, removing blue from yourself and pushing more blue onto him. he slams back onto the wall.

there’s knocking on the door. you shoot a few bones to make sure no one’s able to open it.

gaster stares at you. “**_SANS_**-”

“stop calling my name!” you yell, as he shrugs off your blue like its nothing. you turn your blue back on yourself, using it to the bring yourself up, as far away as possible from the royal scientist. why aren’t there any vents in your lab?

the door’s still rattling.

“stay away,” you say, voice trembling.

“**_COME DOWN_**,” he says. “**_LET ME LOOK AT YOUR ARM_**.”

you shake your skull slightly desperately.

he sighs and, with a twist of his wrist, drags you down with blue. you don’t struggle - it’s pointless after all - gaster’s so much stronger than you. although, when you’re on solid ground, you back yourself away as much as possible.

“**_SANS_**…”

“stop! just-“ you gasp, feeling the onset of the _something_ that caused you to have a breakdown in front of paps before. one of your arms are thrown out in the universal stop sign, the other wrapped around yourself. “stop!”

your bones are rattling together, and so you focus on that sound, willing it to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a little longer than expected haha. 
> 
> yo, pop by my [tumblr](https://darkcoldsummer.tumblr.com/) or something. drop a drabble request or art request or even a question, anything honestly. just distract me from <strike>hell</strike> school.


	3. that all somehow result in me not being able to meet you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sans is in a,,, not good place.

when you finally refocus yourself after that- after whatever that was, there is a lot more people in your lab than just you and gaster. you pointedly ignore them in favour of scrutinising your broken lab door. someone had ripped it right off its hinges. impressive.

“Sorry about your door,” flo says, sounding entirely unapologetic.

you redirect your attention from the door to the breaker of the door. “y’ better fix it or i’ll sic paps on ya.” you wince at the accent, steadying yourself and fixing it.

“Okay,” they reply.

“**_WHAT WAS THAT?_**” gaster asks.

“my broken lab door,” you say, eye lights turning back to it. there are splinters on the ground. you wonder how that came about.

“**_NO, WHAT WAS THAT?_**” he asks again, waving his hands around. “**_THE THING THAT MADE YOU INCAPABLE OF ANSWERING ANYTHING? THE THING THAT LEFT YOU RATTLING ON THE FLOOR? DON’T TRY TO PLAY DUMB WITH US. WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE NOT THAT STUPID._**”

you shrug, scooting backwards a little. maybe if you get far enough you’ll be able to shortcut away without bringing anyone else?

“I thi-ink it was a-a panic atta-ack?” alphys says, voice going higher with every word.

you watch as naveen nods to that, flo joining in on agreeing. angie looks uncertain but gaster seems convinced and concerned. you scoot away even more.

“Where are you going?” karma says.

you freeze as everyone turns towards you. karma (the concept not the monster (actually maybe both)) is a bitch. are you far enough to ‘port away without bringing anyone else? …you hope so, but it doesn’t seem so. besides, your magic reserves feel strangely empty. you don’t think you could ‘port even by yourself, even if you tried.

you’re trapped, you’re stuck, you’re going to have to have the conversation you’d avoided for a while. unless you somehow manage to gather enough magic to shortcut or manage to escape your lab without anyone else noticing-

“S-Sans?” alphys.

“yeah?” you feel yourself responding, more out of instinct than anything else, mind shutting down.

you think one of your colleagues say something. you’re not sure.

a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

(and you would’ve been perfectly fine and happy responding to everything on instinct too!)

you flinch. it’s heavy and it feels like the weight of your sins weighing down on you like you’re a weighing scale. naturally, you try to move it away.

perhaps the not-so-natural part is your method of moving it away, which consists of more than a few bone attacks aimed at the monster in front of you.

the hand promptly removes itself. you’re glad for that, but a dark voice in your mind reminds you that doesn’t mean the threat is permanently removed.

your magic rears its head suddenly, an energy boost if you’ve ever seen one. you brace it in preparation of what’s to come.

-

when your mind finally clears from the fog it’s settled into, you are teetering precariously on a cliff in waterfall. you take a step back, just barely avoiding plummeting down to the ground. (you wouldn’t have been against it, honestly. it’s just that you don’t want paps to have to learn to fend for himself. he deserves the best life he can get.) (he doesn’t have the best life he can get. this is just one of the lives you can give. you hope that somewhere, in another universe, papyrus is raised [by someone else] to have the best life possible.)

you decide that you don’t quite want to know what happened.

-

surprisingly, papyrus’s friend (undyne, right? parents dead from a human when she was barely 5, about 8 years back? you think so at least, but you’ve enough courtesy to not ask.) is the first one to find you.

“PAPYRUS!”

“UNDYNE!” paps yells.

“WHAT IS YOUR BROTHER DOING UP THERE?”

“SANS? SANS!” paps runs into the room, looking around, before looking up and calling up at you, delighted for a moment before reality sinks in. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE? YOU HAVE WORK!”

“oh but i’ve gotten a skele-ton of work done today,” you say, pausing on cue for the synchronised groans from below you and the rimshot created by your magic. it’s a familiar role, a familiar routine and you fall back into it easily. “so much that good ol’ doctor gaster let me off earlier. besides, i was feeling a little under the weather so i thought that maybe climbing up here would lift my spirits.”

“SANS!” your brother screeches at you.

“alright alright i won’t patella ‘nother pun,” you grin, ‘porting down with a (forced) skip in your step.

you get a “SANS!!” and a splash of water in your face for your efforts.

you laugh, feeling lighter than you did before.

-

you take a break from work a few days, telling paps you’re gonna spend more time with him. (you’ve found another job. you think it’s less pay than your job at the labs and that makes you hurt a little.)

you’re prepared your resignation but you’re a skeleton and that doesn’t help much in the “having the guts to tender it” department.

clearly, with all the emotional turmoil of the past two weeks, you need a break. (no you don’t, that’s an excuse for the useless lazy skeleton that you are to sleep more. honestly who needs 15 hours of sleep anyway? sans the fucking skeleton, you suppose. it’s a miracle paps hasn’t turned out to be like you.)

so it’s another peaceful tuesday after school and you’re spending time with paps when you hear a knock on your door.

it’s sharp and loud and familiar- you know exactly who it is and you have a good idea what he’s gonna say to you.

papyrus looks at you curiously and so you keep your expression frozen, petting his skull as you stand up and head to the door.

“heya,” you say, carefully keeping your eye lights at a spot above gaster’s head. “what’s up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet my [tumblr](https://darkcoldsummer.tumblr.com/). thank you. also exams,,, so probably more stress writing of random vaguely connected drabbles. time'll tell if i'll ever publish them.


	4. all i have to say is that i’m sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sans resigns from his job.
> 
> papyrus is maybe a bit clueless.
> 
> gaster is probably very very confused.

“other than the normal, y’know? hearing people answer that withrocks and stuff is getting really tiring. where’s the creativity gone? surely someone would have a witty original reply,” you continue, noting that you’re probably rambling. your eye lights dart from side to side. you don’t think anyone else from the science team is here. “don’t even get me started on the ones about the surface, the sun, the sky, those are just plain sad y’know? way to go for a reality check!”

“**_SANS_**.”

“i mean, technically i’m down, not up, you’re the one who’s up, taller, something, relatively-“

“**_SANS_**.”

“yeah yeah, that’s my name don’t wear it out,” you say, all in one breath and maybe a tad too quickly, still avoiding eye contact.

“**_YOU’RE ALIVE_**.” gaster says.

“were you expecting otherwise?” you force yourself to slow down, leaning against your doorframe to steady yourself. you’re sure you’re shaking. your voice has slowed down a lot compared to your previous rambling, almost bordering on a drawl. “in that case, sorry to disappoint, y’know, as per usual.”

“SANS!” someone else asks, peering out from behind you. “WHO’S THAT?”

“no one important, paps,” you say, patting his skull placatingly. “i’ll be back soon, so give me a while and go back to watching mtt so you can tell me what it’s about this time. that way, at least one of us’ll know what’s going on.”

“OH! OKAY! MAKES SENSE!” papyrus says, turning around, his scarf waving dramatically in the snowdin breeze for just a second, before he disappears into your home. “HURRY UP THOUGH! I THINK WE’RE NEARING AN EXCITING PART!”

“**_NO ONE IMPORTANT? REALLY SANS?_**” gaster says, once it’s clear that papyrus has left.

“not anymore,” you say, as you nod your head resolutely (you’re shaking) and pull out your resignation letter. “you can tell me if i need to come back to overlook the new guy or something. i doubt it’s necessary though. whoever you choose next can’t be worse than me. you can tell me when i need to take my things and organise my notes, etcetera. otherwise, i think you know what this means.”

you shove the letter into his hands, not letting yourself overthink it anymore than you already have. “good day, doctor aster.”

the whole conversation, you haven’t looked him in the eye light even once. what if he thinks you’re rude? should you have called him less formally? should you have called him up before this? maybe you should have waited a bit more to give him your letter? what does he think of you now?

you’re definitely overthinking your decision, so you do the one thing you hope will solve it, seeing as you already said an equivalent of goodbye and all.

you shut the door in his face and walk back to paps. sitting down on the couch next to him, he tells you all about the “MOST EXCITING PART, WHICH YOU MISSED, HONESTLY SANS?! YOU SAID IT WOULD ONLY TAKE A BIT!!” and gently chides you for taking so long.

underneath all that panic, you’re just numb.

-

you still go to work, sure, but not as a scientist anymore and definitely not part of the royal science team, capitalised and all. it’s strange.

you catch yourself sometimes, about to ‘port to the lab in hotlands, before you wake up from your daydream and instead take a walk through snowdin forest.

your new job is, quite plainly, unsatisfying. you’re all for doing nothing but just sitting there and watching snow? is? very? boring??? tiring??? repetitive?? useless??

still, apparently, you’re doing such a good job of it that they’ve offered you multiple posts. you take the waterfall one, but tell them you’ll think about the two hotland ones first. see if you can manage your new workload and all.

the truth is, you don’t want to go any closer to the labs.

you’ve cut off all contact to your old co-workers and instead thrown yourself, with a frantic panic, into befriending the other sentries - mainly dog monsters but still. that makes it easier, doesn’t it?

your luck is all run out though, when gaster calls you back in to take your things and give a run down on the equations and experiments in your personal labs.

you don’t have a choice. it’s what you said you would do and so you have to do it. not for them, but for yourself. you’ve already betrayed so much of yourself, this is one thing that you’re desperately hanging on to, trying your damnedest not to lose. you’re not going to abandon your integrity just yet, you hope.

-

you show up, straight into your (not anymore) personal labs. you hadn’t told anyone if you’d come and when you’d come, and so your labs are devoid of all other presences. not your labs anymore.

the things in your (not yours, get it through that stupid thick skull of yours) lab are untouched. there are little singe marks on the walls and the broken door has been fixed but other than that, nothing much has changed.

you get to packing quickly.

your notes are already, albeit messily, separated into personal and official ones, so you take the personal ones and shove it into your box, then straighten out the stack of official notes. your personal experiments and machines are checked for blueprints, which you take, leaving the experimental set ups and machinery.

you send your stack of notes back to your room back at home, making use of a handy little shortcut.

you’re not ready to face the rest of the team and their new member, but what other choice do you have?

you cast one last longing look at the experiments in your (not your) labs and resist the urge to head back in, put on your lab coat and start science-ing. just because you resigned, doesn’t mean you dislike science. you just… can’t put up with the pressure. at least humans only ever fall once in a while. science doesn’t stop for anyone.

who are you kidding. you just don’t want your ex-co-workers to keep pestering you over issues that you know you have and just don’t want to face. running away isn’t healthy for you by any means, but it’s the only thing you know how to do.

you turn your back and close the lab door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is over [here](https://darkcoldsummer.tumblr.com/) so check it out for random art and stuff. (it's there.) 
> 
> i should probably draw something for this story. yeah, why not. someday. maybe.
> 
> i'm sorry for the sudden radio silence? exams and well, stress and moving schools and school's out for the year! yay! let's see if i can do stuff properly now. (laptop time has been restricted to 3 hours/day so uh... yeah....)


	5. sorry for the lost time and the panic and everything else i will never be able to say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reality literally falls apart.

the labs are still familiar territory, no matter what has gone on between it’s inhabitants. it remains neutral, and you kinda really like that. still, it’s a shock of normal to your system, walking through the same halls that you have for years (just two, really. no need for being overdramatic, sans) after the sudden separation.

it almost calls at you, beckoning you back to it’s hold but you’ve reasoned it all out in your mind, and you don’t really regret this decision, not much, not anymore.

(reasoned is a nice word, too nice of a word. you think repressed might work better.)

the burn in your soul is strong, and you can feel it pounding within your ribcage, the reverberations echoing into your skull.

(you don’t want to do this, don’t want to make it official.)

you’re doing this.

(why does the door look so intimidating? it feels like it’s been stretched, 10 times taller than it actually is. you feel minuscule compared to it. you’ve never liked feeling insignificant - you’re terrified.)

you take a deep breath to steady yourself, then prepare to reach out to push the door open-

“Are you going to lurk here for the next 30 minutes or are you actually going to do something?”

startled, you jump, literally. and you crash into the door, knocking it open and falling onto the thankfully carpeted floor of the break room. (if it hadn’t been carpeted…)

angie’s blank stare unnerves you even more than it should.

you quickly push yourself up into a standing position, and look away. “‘m s’rry.”

she walks up to you, you can hear it, and your eye sockets squeeze shut - _because she’s gonna slap you or yell at you or something of the sort why else would she come so close too close too much she’s not pap it can’t be for anything nice and happy like hugs all you can do is hope that she’ll be careful you only have 1 hp after all_ \- then she walks past, not saying another word - you feel it in the breeze of her pushing the air, and the swishing of her tail.

you pry open one eye socket, and you’re met with the open doorway of the break room, facing out into the corridor. then you turn around. surprisingly, no one other than angie is in the room with you and you really really don’t want to talk to her, don’t want to have to face her.

you decide to settle for finding a seat and waiting.

-

angie never leaves, and that unsettles you. she doesn’t even say anything, just stays there, and every time you glance at her for a split second, she’s watching you, which unnerves you so much that you immediately look away.

(she’s judging you, she’s questioning your slip ups, she’s plotting ways to dust you and make sure she’s not caught-)

you stand up.

she’s still watching you, and you don’t even know why you stood up. you look at the clock. it’s been five minutes. you sit back down.

angie’s stare never leaves either.

-

it feels like it’s been so long, you’re starting to think that the good doctor has no intention of showing up. it’s only been a total of 15 minutes anyway, so you’re not sure why you think that either. after all, it’s always hard to tear a scientist away from their experiments, as you know from experience.

you’re starting to contemplate straight-up leaving, but there’s a wailing of alarms just about as soon as you think that.

angie shoots up and scampers off, not even giving you a spare glance. that’s the danger alarm, and you wonder if you should go help, but you don’t because it’s not your job anymore. leave it to the actual scientists, after all.

your rock on the balls of your feet for a while, still seated on the very much comfortable sofa, so it’s a while before you see it.

you’re not sure what you’re seeing, but you’re pretty sure it’s more of what you’re not seeing. it’s a black spot, growing, spreading, wider and wider - though black isn’t the right word either, dark, darker, yet darker. in the experiments with it, the team labelled it the void. but this? this must have been an experiment with the void gone wrong. you have special labs for these, and it definitely shouldn’t be spreading all the way to the break room.

you make a split second decision and teleport.

-

the break room clearly didn’t take the brunt of the void, you think, because the inner labs are much worse. you don’t think you want to risk teleporting in this chaos, so you run. it’s nowhere as fast as it could’ve been, but it’s plenty for safety.

the void is spreading, faster and faster, darkness growing darker. you know that you don’t know how it interacts with souls, fully capitalised, and neither do the team, and you know you don’t want to know.

you leap over a growing black puddle under you, and find yourself walking on air. you don’t have time to question it - the void steadily growing, looking more and more out of control.

the inner labs were bad, but the area near the void labs is terrible, in near complete dark darkness. there’s a flashing alarm outside one of the rooms, and you burst in.

it’s chaos. there’s a void vortex in the middle of the room, and the containment chambers are nowhere to be seen. gaster is desperately trying to keep everyone away from it, struggling with blue magic. he was the only one in the room who had it, but not anymore. you can help too - blue magic is your specialty after all, even if it is weaker than gaster’s.

you grab the soul closest to the vortex, and jerk it back towards the door, your hand on the frame to stabilise yourself. you’re a glass cannon - a heavy hitter with little fire and so so fragile. you hope that that works in your favour this time.

alphys joins you, soul glowing blue after being jerked backwards, so you grab on to her physically as well.

you reach out again with your magic, but there isn’t anything to hold on to. your eyesockets snap open and you look around desperately. alphys is still grasping on to you, and the both of you are still somewhat okay, but reality seems to be coming apart at the seems.

you flicker, and then alphys does too. you’re quite intrigued by the flicker. a transition between what you’d say a monster normally looks like, and a series of numbers and alphabets not unlike code.

though, you have more time to think about that later. you need to get out of here, fast.

you see gaster - or something like him, flickering more rapidly than you and alphys and you see his code changing. it may be too late to save him, and naveen and karma and flo and angie, but you can save you and alphys. both of you aren’t that bad yet.

you don’t normally code, but this time, you try - changing variables and adding them, never deleting and always trying to keep reality over the void.

the darkness grows darker and you have to hurry hurry hurry, alphys is clinging on to you and crying and you’re having trouble focusing. your flickering is about constant and a barely enough rate, but you need to be faster, code faster and accurately and you need to keep alphys alive at the very least, and you want to go back home and see papyrus because you were too late and never got to apologise to the rest of your team and your vision is darkening at the edges, desperation growing, darkness growing darker-

-

you wake up with a start in the upper labs, alphys shaking you awake. “S-sans?”

“stars…” you say, shielding your eyes. “why’s everything so bright?”

“Sorry,” alphys says, fidgeting with her claws. “I-I… I thought-“

“’ssok,” you interrupt, as you remember your desperation in the void and a desperate need to apologise. “i should be the one saying sorry. i was a downright asshole when all you guys wanted to do was help me.”

she looks at you blankly. “Wh-what are you talking ab-bout?”

“you know, when you said i was being too self-depreciating,” you laugh weakly at that, adrenaline still running through your veins. “and, wow that feels so long ago, i got cornered by the entire team-“

“Sans,” alphys says slowly. “We… We work a-alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since i've written for this, and i've always had this eventually in the timeline, but i didn't think i'd be writing it. and also it gave me a headache to understand it, so really sorry if you don't understand it either!
> 
> it's been a ride, but hey! i completed my first multi-chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> yo, let's see how long this will take. (i've already extended it from a oneshot to a twoshot to a threeshot, how much longer can it go?)
> 
> update aft chapter 3: oh did i say 3-shot? ... i have no idea when this'll end. hopefully next chapter. i have an idea i want to work on. but maybe it'll take more chapters oh no.


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